


How Do You Know?

by il_miglior_fabbro



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-17 15:45:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9332114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/il_miglior_fabbro/pseuds/il_miglior_fabbro
Summary: Baekhyun and Kyungsoo push and pull without direction and purpose.





	

Kyungsoo leans back in his chair as Baekhyun fumbles around for a cup. He waits for five, long moments before he speaks up. 

“Are you okay?” 

The question is delivered without any real concern in it, perfunctory in a way which Kyungsoo’s interactions with Baekhyun are usually tinted with. 

It’s a curious question to ask a fellow member. Years in the industry have taught them about the redundancy of such a question, so heavy in its simplicity and really quite ridiculous in its ignorance. It’s too polite. You don’t ask a sleep-deprived and bogged-down-by-schedules member whether he is okay. You don’t ask someone who you’ve known from when your voice(s) would crack over simple notes whether they are okay. You shouldn’t need to.

“Yeah,” Baekhyun’s voice brings Kyungsoo out of his thoughts, “It’s just. There’s so much to fucking do.” 

Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow at the swear word. While Baekhyun is definitely not as prudish as Joonmyun when it comes to profanity, his use of it is rarely ever careless. 

But Kyungsoo nods in understanding and Baekhyun continues to fumble around. He reaches out for a spoon and it clatters against the sink loudly. Baekhyun winces apologetically, face half-turning to Kyungsoo. 

Kyungsoo takes in the darkness underneath Baekhyun’s eyes and winces back. The makeup stylists have a hell of a job set out for them. His eyes continue to wander and he takes in the defeated slope of Baekhyun’s strangely wide shoulders. He takes in the tensed muscles of the boy’s neck and back. 

Kyungsoo doesn’t really know what prompts him to do what he does next. It’s certainly out of character for him. Or, it has become out of character for him. They’ve all grown up enough that caring for each other doesn’t need to be done through extravagantly overdone gestures and reassurances don’t need to be spoken. They’ve all grown up enough that they can take care of themselves. 

Kyungsoo stands up and nudges Baekhyun gently to the side. “I’ll make you the coffee.” He says. 

He can feel the older boy’s gaze on him but keeps his eyes fixed on the coffee machine that Minseok had bought. It has a plethora of functions, half of which only Minseok really understands. Kyungsoo opts for a simple black coffee. 

Next to him, Baekhyun still watches, the weight of his gaze but stifling and exhilirating. Kyungsoo doesn’t turn around, not wanting to face Baekhyun’s expression. Not wanting to see the meaning behind it. 

“I can do it myself.” Baekhyun’s response is moments too late so it comes out half-hearted and his hands reaching for the machine are easily swatted away.

“You should have a good cup of coffee in the morning before a long day.” Kyungsoo sounds kind of like Minseok when he says it. Baekhyun snorts slightly. 

Kyungsoo means it. Baekhyun, save for singing and dancing, does everything in a rushed, sloppy way. He’s always been a terrible cook, mostly due to his inability to sit still and when it comes to coffee, he is the same. The water isn’t hot enough when he pours it. The coffee is only half done when the enticing scent prompts him to take it out. Lumps of half-dissolved sugar reside in the bottom of his mugs; a distinguishing feature that Kyungsoo has learned to pin-point.

It’s the curse of being the unofficial cook, he supposes. Little habits of the members become second nature to Kyungsoo. More so, he muses, than their actual personalities. When they were younger and smiled more, Kyungsoo had used these habits to form profiles of the members in his heads. How Minseok’s plates were always completely scraped of food. How Sehun never finished his teas and then got upset when he discovered, three hours later, that it had been poured down the sink. How Kris would always – 

Kyungsoo blinks. 

He finishes making the coffee without flourish, adding in the two tablespoons of sugar and the so-termed ‘blop’ of cream that Baekhyun has it with. 

He picks up the mug, a pale pink one with a ridiculous green dinosaur on it, probably a gift from a fan, and turns to Baekhyun, looking up and

Kyungsoo is frozen in his spot. Baekhyun’s eyes, when they meet his, are so awfully young. Kyungsoo has a sudden flashback to the time when they were all trainees and Baekhyun had accidentally pushed Kyungsoo and twisted his ankle. The look of complete and unguarded vulnerability; of shock and fear and wariness.

Staring at Kyungsoo is Baekhyun without any of his usual bravado and aegyo and quick comebacks. Unfiltered Byun Baekhyun. What a glorious thing. 

The fact that he can reduce the older boy to this, to strip away all of the boy’s shields, fills Kyungsoo with a sadistic curiousity. The horrible desire to test this, to test how far he can take this power over the other. 

The thought makes him feel upset over himself and he pulls his eyes away from the other, afraid his turmoil will show.

He shoves the mug a bit too powerfully into Baekhyun’s hands and it splashes onto his fingers. Baekhyun, much to Kyungsoo’s surprise, doesn’t make a single sound even though the liquid is probably scalding hot. 

Kyungsoo leaves the kitchen with a whirling mind and nervous hands. 

-

Baekhyun sits on the chair and leans his head back so that his neck cracks slightly. He lets out an unabashedly loud groan of satisfaction. 

From opposite him, Jongin lets out a disgusted sound, lifting his eyes from his phone to express his distaste in a single but strangely diminishing glare.

Baekhyun ignores it, of course. 

He can hear Kyungsoo and Chanyeol shuffling around in the kitchen, the sound of Chanyeol’s booming voice and Kyungsoo’s increasingly frustrated remarks painting a familiar song reminiscent of kinder days. 

It’s been some time since they’ve had a meal at home but all the members had managed to unite as one (pft) to eat Kyungsoo and Chanyeol’s chicken dish (Baekhyun doesn’t really know what it is but it’s good). 

He plays with his fingers, tapping them on the table as if he were playing a piano. He isn’t, and probably appears pretentious to anyone looking but it’s fun to let his fingers move exaggeratedly against the wooden surface. 

After a few minutes, spent with an idle mind and careless fingers, Kyungsoo and Chanyeol emerge from the kitchen. “We don’t have any red chili paste.” Chanyeol announces grandly. Baekhyun takes in the boy’s annoyed eyes and black hair and wishes he was taller.

Baekhyun’s eyes wander to Kyungsoo and find the younger boy already looking at him. Kyungsoo doesn’t shift his gaze upon their eyes meeting and just like that, Baekhyun is rooted to the spot as if the world has become still around him. He squints in confusion and puerility.

“So?” He addresses them both. From opposite to him, Jongin puts down his phone. 

“One of you needs to get the red chili paste.” Kyungsoo says instead of Chanyeol, and his eyes move away from Baekhyun to Jongin.

The loss of contact is both relieving and distressing. Baekhyun wants to punch himself for this stupidity.

“I’m not going.” Jongin says resolutely. Baekhyun turns to sneer at the dancer. “You’re the youngest.” 

“I have a hurt leg.” Jongin says and quickly gets up to walk away, looking perfectly fine. Baekhyun calls out a curse after him but doesn’t move from his seat. For all his ‘passion’ and ‘hard work’ on stage, Jongin is essentially a sloth in real life and to take him out of his natural habitat is much too weighty of a task. 

There is a brief silence before

“Thanks Baekhyunnie.” Chanyeol says cheerfully, grinning wickedly at him before ruffling his hair. Baekhyun leans into the touch even as he stares angrily at the tall boy. 

He’s just about to leave, a mask haphazardly slapped on his face when Kyungsoo approaches him with bills in his hand. “Here.” The boy offers the money to him. 

Baekhyun cocks his head. 

“It’s okay,” He pats down his hair, “I have money.” 

Kyungsoo just blinks owlishly at him. Baekhyun blinks back. He’s good at this, with Kyungsoo. Countless pranks and attempts to rile up the younger boy from when they were both carefree have turned him somewhat immune to Kyungsoo’s expectant silences that render Jongdae a mess and even Chanyeol awkward. 

Finally, Kyungsoo sighs and mutters something incoherently before grabbing Baekhyun’s hand. The sudden skinship is startling enough that Baekhyun jumps slightly. Kyungsoo stares at him in a mixture of confusion and satisfaction as he places the bills in Baekhyun’s hands, wrapping Baekhyun’s fingers around it purposefully. He then, tentatively strokes a bitten-down nail across the knuckles of Baekhyun’s fingers, the look on his face covetous. 

These moments are the ones that confuse Baekhyun the most. Sometimes Kyungsoo reaches out, in his weird and silent way and looks at Baekhyun like he’s something which fascinates him and Baekhyun is always left questioning the other boy’s motives. He’s an idiot who turns simple incidents into huge metaphors, poring over them with a critical eye as if replaying the actions will give purpose to them. It’s a slow, torturous game and Baekhyun must be sadistic for continuing to play it. 

Kyungsoo leans in slightly as he lets go of Baekhyun’s hand. “Get the Sunchang one.” He says imperviously, his eyes fixed on Baekhyun’s face. Baekhyun lets out a croaky “Okay,” and the boy disappears into the kitchen. 

Baekhyun is left, once again, to a whirling mind and nervous hands.

**Author's Note:**

> I just have a lot of feelings for Baeksoo. They're so underappreciated, it's so sad.


End file.
